


Falling, Fallen *UNDER CONSTRUCTION + HIATUS*

by archupti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Depression, Draco's perspective, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Love Triangles, M/M, Maid!Draco, Slow Burn, foreclosure, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archupti/pseuds/archupti
Summary: Draco Malfoy has to make ends meet for him and his mom after they were forced to sell the Manor by the Ministry. And there's a certain Harry Potter who needs his house cleaned every weekend.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 19
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

“We’ve got no money left.” Narcissa says calmly, her pale hand rubbing circles into Draco’s hunched back.

Draco sighs into his hands, trying to take comfort in the small gesture but isn’t able to. Feeling weary, he leans against his mother, and she switches from rubbing circles to patting his soft platinum hair.

“I know. I know. I don’t know what to do.” Draco says, his voice catching a little at the end.

One year. One year was how long what was left in the vaults has lasted. From the ministry taking a large majority from fines, lawyer fees, manor upkeep, and essential services, what they had left was only 100,000 Galleons… from 321,285,145. And now that’s gone.

Draco turns his head slightly to look up at his mother, whose features are soft and understanding. Draco sighs and he sits up.

“I can sell a couple of heirlooms… some old clothes. That can get us by for a little while until I can find a way to get us going again.”

Narcissa shook her head. “My Dragon, it’s time to sell the-”

“No!” Draco exclaims, jerking his body from the emerald green couch. “We will not sell the Manor. Over my dead body.”

“Draco, honey, please understand that the manor is the reason why the money has gone dry,” She holds Draco’s hand. “If we sell the manor and the villas in France, Belgium, and Hungary, we’ll have more than enough money to buy a bigger home out of the country.” She brings his hand to her face, nuzzling it.

Draco relaxes at the touch, though only slightly.

“This is the ancestral home… this is our _home_.” Draco says.

“Draco, you know that it has stopped being home. Ever since-”

“Don’t say his name. Even in death, don’t say his name.”

The room was thick with tension, and Draco takes a deep breath, taking in the floral scent of the house, the little fragments of dark magic that the curse breakers couldn’t rid of. Even though he hates the idea of selling any of their properties, she was right about the manor. It hasn’t been home for a while. And even though the idea of selling the manor was painful, it was necessary. They’re Malfoys after all.

And Malfoys survive.

*

It took a while to find a realtor who was willing to work with Draco and Narcissa. Most, if not all realtors based in Diagon Alley turned their noses up at the family, even when they were offering a high commission percentage. So, they had to look a little lower. Using what little connections that the Malfoys still have, they were able to find a realtor based in… Knockturn. He was a shady man, who dressed in coal black robes, grey slacks, and a black petticoat. He kept his eyes hidden with his grey fedora, decorated with a bright green feather. But he talked a good talk, and was able to sell one of the villas in France. That was enough to keep him on.

One by one, all the villas were sold off, and the man was swimming in gold. When it came to the manor however, he seemed to hit a bit of a snag.

“It’s not sellin’,” He tells Draco and Narcissa one afternoon. “Tha house has too much history, and that history’s still…fresh.”

Draco and Narcissa look to one another, then back to the realtor. 

“Well what can you do?” Draco asks. 

“Well, it might not sell to the general public, but with my connections-”

“We will not be needing your ‘connections’.” Draco says, cutting this man off. “Sell this manor and sell it the right way… the _legal_ way.” he finishes, sending the realtor a sneer.

“Of course I’m gonna do it the legal way you git,” He started, not being bothered by the glares sent from both Draco and Narcissa. “I’m saying I can use my connections from the ministry to get this house sold.”

Draco’s blood ran cold. The Ministry? The Ministry’s the reason why they’re broke! This man is talking about selling their house to the same institution who put them in this predicament! The realtor feels the change in the room and he clears his throat.

“Think of it as getting some of your money back… they way they threw that 300,000,000 million galleon fine,” He tips his fedora. “Sure beats life in Azkaban and the Dementor’s kiss though.” 

Draco can feel the rage pool in his stomach. Never did he think that he would sell his house to the ministry. But if it’s needed, it’s needed. 

After all, Malfoys survive.

*


	2. Chapter 2

3,212,851.45 was the total money grossed from selling all the properties, post commission fees of course. Draco and Narcissa had bought themselves a home that was in muggle london. It wasn’t horrible by any means, it was large, open. It was also in a secluded neighborhood, so nobody would ever think to harass them there. Draco made the decision to sell whatever that didn’t fit into their new home, because even though it is large with many windows, the Malfoy Manor was ginormous with many windows, and it made sense to sell off whatever furniture would take up too much space.  
Too bad it was most of the furniture. As Draco sees the movers magically haul the first batch of their things, he turns to his mother, whose face was twisted into a deep frown. He knows that this had to be hard on her as well. Even though Draco lost his father, she lost the love of her life. And now they’re both losing the place that they called home. Draco watches his mother enter back into the manor grounds, almost in a trance, as she pushes open the grey oak doors. Draco follows her inside. He watched her run her pale, slender hand up the polished staircase, he watched her run her fingers through the bookshelf, her blood red nails raking the surface of the time worn first editions. All the while Draco was watching, he saw the look of sadness and longing in her face.  
“I remember when you were a babe you once turned your father’s hair blue. Blue as the sky.” She turns to Draco. “His face… he looked like he wanted to pop and hug you all at once.” Her eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t spill from her delicate face.  
“It happened here in this room. Your Hogwarts letter, when your father gave you your watch… it all happened here.” She blinked and a fat tear rolled down her face, collected at her chin, and fell onto the dark wood flooring.  
Draco straightens his posture and he takes confident strides to his mother, where he envelops the woman in a loving embrace and feels her body shake as sobs wracked her body. While only a few minutes had passed, it felt like hours to Draco. He lets up the embrace with his mother, and she wipes her eyes with the excess fabric that bell-bottom sleeves provide.  
“You… you should go and double check your room. Make sure all your stuff is packed up. I’ll be okay.” Narcissa says, and she leaves Draco, going to other parts of the manor to grieve the memories that lie there.   
With a shaky breath, Draco goes upstairs and he goes to his room.  
What used to be full of books and childhood toys is now either moved out or packed up, waiting to be hauled away by the movers. Draco looks around, his chest burning a little from the emptiness. He noticed that his old Hogwarts trunk wasn’t packed with the rest of his things, so he shrinks the trunk and puts it in a box with his childhood possessions. He magically seals the box shut and stacks the box with the other pile of boxes that are meant to be picked up. He checks his closet for clothes that might’ve been left behind, but all he sees are empty shelves and hangers.  
When he leaves his room, he walks downstairs and back to the front years, where there is a ministry worker lazily looking at the haulers but he fixes his posture and demeanor when he sees Draco. The worker looks extremely uncomfortable, like he doesn’t want to be where he is. The worker straightens his like green robes and hands Draco a paper, the deed to the estate. Draco conjures a quill and signs his rights to the house over to the ministry of magic.  
“The keys, sir?” The worker asks, his hand is out expectantly.  
Draco digs at his dress pants for the brass key. He hands it to the worker who inspects it with a careful eye.  
“This is the original, not the copy, yes?” The worker asks.  
“Yes.” Draco replies.  
“And there are no other copies of this key? Have you destroyed all other copies of this key, correct?” The worker asks again, this time he gives Draco a suspicious look.  
“No and yes, I have.” Draco replies again.   
Satisfied with the responses, the worker pockets the key and rolls up the deed and pockets that as well.  
“Thank you for your business, Mr. Malfoy.” And with a crisp pop, the ministry worker disapparates.  
It’s really official now. They no longer own the manor, it is no longer their home. And now they have to leave and never look back. Damn the Dark Lord, damn Lucius Malfoy, damn the death eaters, damn everybody!  
Draco stays out front and waits for his mother to leave the manor. When she does leave, her face is swollen from the tears and they both mournfully look back at the manor before apperating to their new home.  
*  
It was a painless affair, moving in. With the elves that they had left, the movers, and Draco, the Malfoy pair moved in comfortably. Draco takes a once over at the living room, placing his hand on the matte white wall. The brown rattan couches and loveseats matched perfectly with the white animal fur carpet. And the brown coffee table brings it all together. The elves really know their interior design. Draco leaves the living room, and goes up into his room. He insisted that he would unpack his room on his own, but the boxes were stacked around all haphazardly in his little room. Some were even put on top of his bed and stuffed in his closet. Draco lets out the most weary sigh, and he walks to his bedroom window. His grey eyes look up to the moon, and in the stillness of it all, he cries.  
*  
“I can go out and get a job.” Narcissa suggests out of the blue during breakfast.  
Draco gives her an incredulous look. He stops eating.  
“Of course not. I’m the head of the house.”  
“But I have some connections, maybe-”  
“Mum,” Draco says, raising a hand to her. “We don’t have any connections, and I would rather eat Crup shit than to see you work a menial job.”  
Narcissa gives him a piercing look. Draco returns the same icy stare and lowers his hand.  
“I’ll go out to Diagon, see if I can get one from there.” Draco says. Narcissa gives him a wary look in response, and he shrugs it off.  
*  
Shut doors. Doors slammed in face. Barred from entry. The sneers, the comments, the hexes. Finding work in Diagon Alley was by far the worst idea Draco has had in his entire life. If he couldn’t get a job in Diagon, he’ll get a job somewhere else. As he pushes his way past other witches and wizards, Draco could’ve sworn he saw those emerald green eyes in the crowd. Draco pulls the cloak over his head as he takes the backroads to Knockturn.  
The office that Draco stumbled upon was shabby and dilapidated. There were rats scurrying from underneath the slightly exposed foundation. There was this dirty, worn out sign that rested against the door.  
HOLLY MAID, LLC  
Draco gave the entire building a final once over. He shuddered, following it up by pulling the drawstrings on his cloak a little bit tighter. He makes his way towards the rotting wood door, walking up the sabby steps, mildly surprised that they even hold his weight. Draco looked at the rotting wood door, hesitating. Should he do this? Is this his only option? Initially, he was going to walk away, but the door opened and he was pulled in.   
The smell was the first thing Draco picked up on. The main office of Holly Maid smells like mold and drywall. In fact, there was drywall chipping everywhere and there were piles on the floor. Draco could also see some rat droppings, and dust up to high heavens. The establishment was filthy, but what other choice did he have?  
Draco takes a cautious seat on the threadbare chair that’s in front of an oddly well made desk. There’s nobody at this desk, but Draco is far too scared to explore the office any further.   
“Hello?” Draco says in hushed tones.   
Nothing happens, which Draco isn’t all that surprised by. Looking around the room, Draco does see a rusty call bell next to the broken bookshelf near the entrance. Draco gets up from his seat and walks to the bell. Before touching it however, he does use his magic to check for curses and hexes. Once the bell came out clean, he rings it. The ding that it produced was crisp, as if it wasn’t all that rusty. There was a rumble and a shake. This put Draco on edge and he had his wand at the ready.  
There was a black, tornado-like swirl that moved around the office. It settled at the empty chair that lays on the other side of the desk. Once the smoke cleared out, there is a man, with slicked back hair, deep brown eyes, and pink lips. The cloak that he wore is absolutely immaculate, with lace trim and a satin finish.   
“Come, sit.” The man says, his voice smooth like velvet.  
Draco makes his way to this man, and he takes a seat.  
“You’re here about the job, yes?” The man asked.  
“Yes.” Draco says confidently.  
“Do you know how this service works? You don’t look the type to know how to clean.”  
“Er…” It was at this point that Draco was worried. He doesn’t know how to actually clean anything.  
“You know what? Don’t worry about it. Someone’s gonna teach you some basic cleaning spells. Malfoy, isn’t it?” The man says, waving his wand to produce a quill and ink.  
“How did you-”  
“Your house ring of course.” The man replies, effectively cutting Draco off.  
The man dips his quill in the ink, and he gives Draco a glance before beginning to write.  
“It’s just a description of you, nothing bad.” He says.  
Draco begins to relax a little.  
“What is Holly Maid?” Draco asks after a moment has passed between them.  
“We are a wizarding service that caters to Muggles and Wizards that don’t own elves. You’d be surprised at the volume of customers that we have.”  
“Muggles? Don’t muggles pay with muggle money?” Draco asks.  
“We Holly Maid will convert your money into the proper currency. We know numbers, and our numbers are correct.” The man replies.  
“All maids get a check bi-weekly. It’s 80% of the total that you’ve made from cleaning houses. If you’re bought out for say our weekend package, you get 85%.” He explains effortlessly, taking notes down.  
Draco ponders on the numbers. 80% is a good percentage… And in due time, he’ll be able to slowly buy back all the items he pawned. And shoot, if he goes at it hard enough, maybe he can buy back his home.   
“Sounds good,” Draco says. “Is there a formal application process?”  
“You’ve already done it.” The man replies. “Here’s your contract.” He then turns the paper over to face Draco and hands him the quill. Draco takes a look over at the contract.  
Nothing in it is bad. It states the percentage split, the exit clause, which is a clause stating that you have to give two weeks notice and void your last check. Nothing that sends Draco’s neck   
hairs on end. He signs the paper and gives it to the man, who gives him a warm smile that made Draco flush.  
“Welcome to have you on the team, Draco Malfoy. My name is Darren Bates. I’m your boss.”  
Draco gives him a curt nod, and he gets up to leave the office to go back home.  
“Be here at Holly maid 5am sharp!” Darren calls out as Draco makes it to the door.  
“You got it!” Draco replies, and he then leaves the building.  
*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for such the late upload. It was a mix of writer's block, covid, and college. I know that this chapter's quality isn't that great, but I promise you all that chapter 4 is going to be much better! Also, Harry's going to show up (hopefully) in chapter 5.

Draco woke up slightly before the crack of dawn. He stifled a yawn as he heard the crack of his lone elf.  
“Master Malfoy needing his breakfast tea? Mippy will get Master his breakfast tea.” The elf gives Draco a once-over with his misty blue eyes and disappears with a crack.  
Draco gets up from his queen-sized bed and he goes into the bathroom that is adjacent from his bedroom and does his usual routine: washing his face, brushing his teeth, and slicking his hair back with lavender scented pomade. As Draco slicks his hair, he can feel that it’s getting longer than usual, but it isn’t a bad look.  
His mother was of course wary of Draco doing such menial work, but she can’t really change his mind on the matter. But the daggers that she sent to Draco as he went down stairs with his breakfast tea was enough to send a chill down his spine.  
“Mother,” He says, taking a sip of the bitter amber liquid. “What are you doing up this early?”  
“I couldn’t sleep.” Narcissa says, putting her delicate, pale hand to her chin.  
She gives Draco another look. This time it’s more pity than it is anger. Draco doesn’t want her pity. He must do what he must do as a Malfoy to keep this family afloat. He finishes his tea and brushes past Narcissa, going to the parlor room to get his coat. Narcissa follows the young heir as she stands by the doorway, leaning against the dark maple frame.  
“I have to go now mother,” Draco says, not facing his mother. “I don’t know when I’m coming back. Most likely at the end of the day.” He says nonchalantly, putting his coat on, tugging on certain areas for comfort.  
“Draco.” Narcissa’s cool voice stopped Draco mid tugging.   
Narcissa walks to the young man, and she puts a platinum necklace on him. It was bright, sparkles glinting off of the delicate chain like a kaleidoscope.  
“It’s for protection. Covers basic curses and hexes.” She says.  
Draco turns around and embraces his mother.  
“I will be home soon.” He says confidently, breaking the embrace.  
Draco goes towards the floo, pinching the powder with his slender fingers.  
“Knockturn Alley!” He says, and the green flames envelop his entire body.  
*  
Draco faces the Holly Maid building, but this time with a little more confidence. Putting his cloak over his head, he quickly crosses the street and rushes up the steps.  
The interior of Holly Maid was that of night and day. Where there was cracked paint and moldy crown moulding, is replaced with smooth baby blue walls and a warm, open space with plenty of light coming in from the clean windows. Draco takes himself to Bates’ office. He knocks the hardwood door and takes a seat. Darren opens the door and gives Draco a warm smile.  
“Ah, mister Malfoy.”  
Draco gives the man a welcoming stare. Bates accepts it with a smile.  
“Here, have a seat.” Bates waves his wand and conjures a nearby chair behind Draco. Draco gives him a curt nod and he takes a seat.  
With Draco seated, Darren waves his wand once more and he conjures up a pile of black fabric.  
“This is your uniform. Helga will come soon and go over basic training and self defense.”  
Draco takes the clothes.  
“Where do I change?” Draco asks.  
Darren points to the door behind his desk.  
“My personal chambers are back here. You can change there.”  
“Ah. Okay.”  
Draco excuses himself and he gets changed.  
*  
Helga is a beefy woman, Draco surmises. He takes in her large, sweaty olive-colored arms. The angry, bushy eyebrows, and the mole on her lip.  
“Is this the new trainee?” She asks, giving Draco a curious glare.   
Darren laughs, which breaks up the tense energy in the room. Draco returns the curious glare, and that causes Helga to squint her eyes even more, making her look like a buttered roll.  
“Yes, he is the new trainee. Let him know the works, alright?” Darren says, and Helga nods.  
“Come with me, Malfoy.” Helga sneers, turning her nose at him.  
Draco hesitates, and Darren puts his hand on Draco’s shoulder.  
“Now, now Helga… play nice.”  
Helga sucks her teeth, and that causes Draco to wince. Darren pushes the young Malfoy towards Helga. She sticks her arm out towards the young heir, and Draco takes it hesitantly. Helga and Draco disapparate with a crisp pop.  
*  
Training was… not too bad. Draco learned both magical and muggle ways of cleaning. How to properly cast a scourgify, how to fold towels, clean toilets… Draco learned it all and he caught on well. Now the ‘self defense’ portion… that was a joke. Draco had to learn and master non-magical self defense. And that was grueling. He didn’t fully grasp on how to defense from the behind, and ended up getting flipped (multiple times) by Helga. After several brackium emendos, and half a bottle of pain potions, Draco was ready to finally deal with a client.  
And it’s only 10 in the morning.  
*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope I've properly established that the perspective is 3rd person limited. You, the reader will only know what Draco knows, you will know his possible intuitions, his feelings, his thoughts to some degree. This chapter is more of a set up for the next. I would love some constructive critique, as I never wrote a story in this perspective before :)

When Draco returns to the main office, this time a little worn out and sore. Darren gives Draco a smile, taking a seat in his office chair. He puts his elbows on the desk and rests his chin on the back of his hands.  
“As you can see… this isn’t a regular maid service.”  
From this comment, this caused Draco to tilt his head and narrow his eyes slightly. Of course he caught on that this isn’t a regular maid service, he didn’t think they would need to know how to fight.  
“I’m curious Mister Malfoy… you’ve never once asked about our clientele…” Darren narrows his dark brown eyes, piercing into Draco’s silver eyes.  
“Look, I am in the need of a job. I’ve had so many doors slammed in my face. This is the first real opportunity that I have and I’m not going to ruin it by asking too many questions.” Draco replies.  
At this Darren lifts his chin and raises his head slightly, so he could look down at Draco a little. He pauses for a beat, the tension in the room thick as buttercream. Darren sighs, and relaxes. Draco lets out a small breath he didn’t even know he was holding.  
“Well, since the SPEW act-”  
“Yeah, all house-elf owners have to register their elves. I know this, I still own an elf.” Draco cuts Darren off with a quickness. Darren sighs once more.  
“Let me finish. Since the SPEW act was put into law… there are some people who would benefit from various cleaning services that’s a bit under the table.” Darren says cooly, leaning back in his chair.  
“So this is just a way to get around the SPEW act?” Draco asks.  
“Exactly. These clients are some of the most powerful wizards that you’ll ever get to service.”  
“Powerful wizards? If this whole operation is illegal...”  
“Put the pieces together Malfoy!” Darren exclaims. “Why do you think you needed to learn basic self defense?”  
It all came crashing to Draco, all of it was starting to make sense. It explains why the pay is good… a little too good. It explains why it’s in the middle of Knockturn instead of Diagon, it explains the secret meetings, the contracts, the lessons… Draco signed himself off as a maid to Dark wizards, the low and dirty, those who think they’re above the law.   
“Now Malfoy, not all of your clients will be wizards. In the muggle world, we’re a completely legit business.”  
“Muggles? What am I supposed to do with muggle money?” Draco asks.  
“I’ll exchange it for you. Think of me as your first national bank.” Darren gives Draco a smile.  
Something about it doesn’t sit right with him, but it’s too late now. There’s no going back, and he must do what he has to do to survive. He’s a Malfoy after all.  
As Draco was letting everything sink in, a barn owl entered from a window, a letter clutched in it’s claws. It flies over the desk, dropping the letter and giving Darren an expectant look. Darren opens one of his desk drawers for an owl treat. He feeds the owl, who in turn gives the man a slow blink before flying away. Darren once again opens his desk drawer and pulls out a small golden letter opener and with a swift movement of his wrist, he gets the letter cleanly open. He pulls out the parchment from within and he reads it over. Draco, who is still as a statue, has enough mulling over, and his alarm raises when Darren gets up from his desk chair and paces around the room, his fingers combing through his soft, brown hair as his deep brown eyes scan each word. At the end of the letter, Darren is at the window where the owl flew from, and he turns to face Draco.  
“I believe you have a first client, Mister Malfoy.”  
“Who is it?” Draco asks, feeling little beads of sweat collect at his hairline.  
Darren clenches his letter at this question. He turns to face Draco, his eyes boring into Draco’s silver irises. Draco gulps, sensing the air between the two get thick with change.  
“It’s the most powerful wizard that has ever lived.”  
Rocks began to build in Draco’s stomach, he gave Darren a wide eyed stare. He feels the air leave his body, he feels himself leave his body, a twisted form of astral projection into deep fear and anxiety. He feels himself come back just as quickly as he left, with one word lingering on his lips:  
“Potter.”  
*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah baby, it's coming :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the middle of a creative boom right now, since the story actually starts here! Thank you for holding on for this long :)

“Potter?” Darren asks, walking towards Draco. “How do you know him?” His eyes narrow.  
Draco couldn’t help but give Darren an incredulous look. The man stole his wand, gave it back during trials, and left. The man sliced his chest open, the man saved his life. It would be absolutely awful if he didn’t know him.  
“We went to school together.” Draco replies simply. Darren nods at this.  
Draco is severely confused; how could Darren not know the type of relationship he had with Potter? Draco had his suspicions when he was hired off the bat, maybe Darren didn’t know his place in the war? No, that’s impossible. There is no running from what he did. But still, it’s odd that he doesn’t know.  
“Well, this Harry Potter fellow specifically requested for you… our Deluxe package.”  
“Deluxe package?” Draco says, confusion laced in his voice. “What’s the deluxe package?”  
Darren raises his eyebrow, but lowers it. He must’ve realized that he never actually went over how the maid packages worked. Darren sighs and he does a little stretch.  
“The deluxe package is 34 weekends worth of cleaning and 67 week days of assistance to the client. This includes being a nanny, going grocery shopping on their behalf, cooking, what have you.” Darren replies matter-of-factly.  
34 weekends and 67 week days? Who does he think Draco is? A calculator? Draco does some level of mental gymnastics to figure out how long that is, and he’s settled at 3 months.  
“So I work for Potter for 3 months?” He asks.  
“Well.. yeah.” Darren replies.  
Darren pulls out a large manilla folder that is stuffed with papers. He pulls a small stack, and he hands it to Draco.  
“This is client information.” He replies.  
Client information? How did Darren even get info on Potter? Draco takes the stack, and he looks at several pages. Grimmauld place… isn’t that his Ancestral home? How did Potter acquire it? A thousand questions swirls in his head as he reads document after document. He knows where Potter lives, skin allergies, food allergies, all of it. Very detailed. After a while, Draco slides the stack back to Darren, who takes it from him, his fingers gently brushing against Draco’s. It made a shiver crawl down his spine.  
“You should probably get going,” Darren says, clearing his throat and turning his head. Did he feel that chill too?  
Draco blinks and nods. “Yeah, yeah.”  
“Do you need directions?” Darren asked. “You know, Grimmauld place isn’t connected to the floo network, and it’s under heavy warding-”  
“No, no.” Draco says, cutting him off. “I know the way.”  
Darren gives Draco a curt nod. Draco gets up from his seat and he walks towards the door.  
“When do I come in to punch out?” Draco asks, his pale hand lightly gripping the doorframe.  
“As soon as you’re done.” Darren replies. “I’ll be here for you.”  
Draco turns to face Darren who at this point, is sitting back in his chair. There’s suddenly electricity in the air, and Draco doesn’t know how to feel about it, so he leaves.  
*  
When Draco checks his watch, it’s about noon. Funny how time is, it’s slow yet it goes by so fast. He tugs his coat closer to his body, and he lets out a breath that becomes a puff of smoke in the chilly air. He walks down the wet and broken cobblestone path to the nearest apparition point and with a dizzying twist, he’s gone.  
*  
Honestly, he’s surprised that he can see Grimmauld place, but at the same time he isn’t. He’s technically in the Black bloodline, so of course he can see it, but still… it feels like he shouldn’t be able to. He rubs his arms as he walks up the stone steps and he rings the buzzer. He can feel the old, ancient magic twist and pull and wrap around him like a blanket. It’s familiar, yet foreign all at once. He takes a single step away from the door as he hears muffled shuffling from the other side.  
Draco sucks in a deep breath as the door opens and it reveals Potter. And oh boy does he look… he looks… absolutely beautiful. His skin is beautifully tanned, his eyes as emerald as Draco has ever seen them. Even though his hair is as wild as he remembers, it for some odd reason fits Potter. His lips are pink and slightly plump and it’s enough to make Draco gulp. He takes in Potter’s outfit, who’s clad in the burgundy auror robes, which doesn’t actually swallow his strong form… it enhances it. Since when did Potter get so… buff? Draco must’ve been staring for too long, since Potter had an annoyed look on his face, and snapped in front of his face to bring him back.  
“Look,” Potter says, his voice low and strong like thunder. “I have to go to work. I expect my house clean by the time I get back,” Potter sticks his hand in his robe pocket and pulls out a slip of paper.  
“These are my shifts. Work within them. I don’t want to see you when I get back.” And with that, he brushes past Draco, leaving the door open for him.  
Draco lets the moment sit with him as he enters the home, and closes the door.  
What in the world is this?  
*


	6. Chapter 6

The interior… it’s cozy. It’s homey. The walls are cream colored, full of photos of Potter and his friends, his family. The windows, while they are a bit dirty, are large and let in a lot of light. In the living room, there is a wooden sectional that brings in a rustic vibe, and a thick pink rug that actually brings the room tiger. Draco’s grey eyes scan around, taking note of the chairs near the fireplace. The throws on them are crumpled and messy. There are clothes and takeout all over the place. The living room is just as messy as it is cozy. Draco walks down a corridor into the dining room, which is nice, but you can tell that it’s barely used. There’s a thin layer of dust on the solid oak table, and on all the china. Draco exits the dining room, and walks into the kitchen.

Oh my. The kitchen is extremely rustic, with a large window that lets in a lot of natural light, and a large wood countertop with 3 barstools placed on one side. He walks towards the window, and underneath it is the sink, and some more counter space. He shakes his head in dismay as the sink and all available counter space is full of dishes. Draco then walks to the fridge and he opens it, and is somewhat surprised to see that it is mostly empty, save for some muggle beer and firewhisky. The oven looks very clean, mainly because Draco can tell it’s barely used. He takes another mental note to do some grocery shopping.

He goes upstairs, and he opens the first room, which is obviously the guest room, it’s a simple room, a bed in a corner, a dresser underneath a small window, and a light blue rug on the floor. The room looks extremely well cared for, so Draco doesn’t think that he needs to clean it. The other two rooms were closed, and when he reached for the doorknob, heat began to radiate and it almost burned Draco’s hand. He pulls back, and begins to rub his pink palm, soothing it a little. Weary, he reaches for the other closed door, and it’s the bathroom, which is horrendously messy. 

Taking the home in, Draco begins to make his way back downstairs, his first stop being the kitchen since it’s the dirtiest in his opinion. He pulls out his wand from the pocket of his black scrubs and casts a basic cleaning spell. The dishes begin to float in the air as the sink fills itself up with water and the soap power adds itself in the hot water. A sponge comes bursting from a drawer and gets to work on the dishes, the newly washed plates begin to put themselves away. Not to exhaust himself, Draco finds a mop and bucket and begins to manually clean the beautiful stone flooring.

*

Cleaning the kitchen was exhausting, but not as exhausting as remembering that there are areas of the house that is much, much, worse. An image of the bathroom comes into Draco’s mind and he winces. Going back into the living room, Draco began to vanish all the takeout and beer bottles, and began to fold all the throws, fluff the pillows, and cast a cleaning spell to the window, cleaning all the dust and debris that had accumulated from disuse. When it came to the photos, Draco decided that it would be best to clean the frames by hand, as direct magic could affect the movement of the photos. 

Draco finds a whole lot about Potter through the photos. He finds out that he’s married to the Weaselette, no shock. He finds out that Granger and Weasley got hitched. Looks like Potter is the best man. As he walks to the fireplace to clean the frames that rest on the mantle, the floo begins to roar and the face of Potter comes up.

“Hope you’re done soon. I’m coming home in an hour.” His voice was gravely and drained.

Okay, Draco must pick up the pace then. He stops observing a few photos until he comes across a photo of Potter holding a newborn baby with a huge smile on his face. He has a family? A child? Draco shakes his head, willing the worms in his stomach to behave. He practically runs up the stairs to quickly clean the available rooms.

*

The house is clean, it’s pristine. Draco is deeply exhausted, but he’s honestly very proud of himself. This was really the first time he cleaned anything, and while it was physically demanding, it felt a little rewarding, somewhat independent. He checks his watch, and he winces. He has five minutes to get out, so he grabs his coat, and leaves Grimmauld Place. He walks down the path to the end of the street. He sneaks off into the shadows, and with that, he apparates back to the headquarters.

When entering, he was surprised to see Helga, who was punching out for the day, putting on her cloak, which looked warm and thick.

“How was ya first day?” She asked, giving him a curious look.

“It was alright,” Draco replies, walking to where Helga is. He searches for his punch card and pulls it out. “Wasn’t extremely dirty, just messy.” He says as he nonchalantly punches out.

He then walks a little past Helga to the changing room to collect his clothes from this morning.

“You know the boss is looking for ye.” She says, moving away from Draco and the clock and going towards the door. “Best if you go and check in with him before you leave.”

Draco nods and he begins his way towards Darren’s office. When Draco faces the door, he has his hand on the knob, ready to turn, but he hesitates. The man isn’t an idiot, he knows that there is something that’s trying to bud between them. But he isn’t sure if he wants it. Shaking the thoughts away, he twists the knob and is faced with a lax Darren who is drinking some amber liquid, most likely some spirit and reading some letters. When he looks up to see who’s at the door, his brown eyes light up with amusement.

“Ah! Malfoy, just the man I want to see… come take a seat.” He says, beckoning Draco to take a seat.

Draco sighs a little, and he takes a seat that is the farthest away from Darren. He leans back and crosses his legs.

“You needed me?” Draco asks coolly.

Daren stares at Draco for a beat, long enough to make Draco just a tad bit uncomfortable. He then blinks, and takes a sip of the spirit before speaking.

“How was your client? Did you interact with him?” Darren begins.

“Erm.. he was fine, I guess? I don’t know really,” Draco says. “Him and I didn’t interact much.”

“Well, if something happens, you let me know.” Darren says.

Draco can tell that this isn’t a request. He gulps, then he nods in agreement.

“Yeah, sure.” Draco looks at the clock. Dinner’s gonna start soon.

“I have to go,” Draco says, getting up which causes Darren to get up. “Have to check in on my mum and such.”

Darren sends Draco a smile, which he does return.

“Would you like me to walk you out?” Darren asks, his eyes expectant.

“No I’m good, I-”

“Lemme walk you out.” He says, walking from behind the desk.

Darren gets behind Draco and he places his hand at the base of Draco’s back. A touch which causes sparks to light all over Draco’s body. Darren nudges Draco a bit to get him to walk. When they exit the building is when the hand comes off, but Draco can still feel the pressure.

At the apparition point, Draco thanks Darren for walking him.   
“It wasn’t necessary,” Draco says. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“How about dinner?” Darren asks. “When you punch out tomorrow, how about dinner between you and me?”

Draco feels the air leave his body. A date? No way. He isn’t ready for anything like that at the current moment. For crying out loud he’s trying to get his life stable! As Draco was trying to think up a way to let Darren down all the while keeping his job, he sees a figure of a man. They’re watching Draco and Darren.

“Um… It isn’t the right time for me, you know?” Draco admits. “I’m on call and it isn’t the best time to be on dates and starting a relationship you know?”

Darren’s eyes darken with hurt.

“I see.” Darren says, his voice gravelly. “Well, you let me know when that time is right. I’m willing to wait for a beautiful bird like yourself.”

A bird? Did he just compare Draco, the silver dragon to a bird? Draco gives Darren a look of confusion before shaking his head and looking down at his shoes.   
“Once again, thanks for walking me. I have to go now.”

Draco gives Darren a curt wave and with that he disapparates with a crisp ‘pop’.

*

When Draco returns home, his body is sore and tired. He has his clothes bundled in his arms, and it’s obvious that he’s had a rough day of sorts. His mother comes from the dining room to see her son in his slightly disheveled state.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” She says, her voice sounding like pure silk. “Once you shower up, you can come down and join me.”

Draco gives his mother a nod, and Mippy pops in to take his clothes.

“Would Master Malfoy be needing the shower running?” Mippy asks. 

Draco replies with a tired nod, and he begins to go upstairs as Mippy goes away to the bathroom to start the shower. Even though he’s had an eventful day, Draco cannot shake the idea that he’s being watched… especially that figure. Draco clutches his silver necklace. And he goes into the bathroom, which is filled with sweet-smelling steam, to wash away the day.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love giving you guys bread crumbs. Stick around and see where the path leads you :)


	7. Chapter 7

Draco cracked his eyes open, the warm golden hues of the dawn filling his room. He still feels sore from yesterday, as he stretches in bed and raises one one of his hands to cover a yawn. Then Mippy appears.  
“Will master be needing his breakfast?”  
Draco nods. “Some Oatmeal would be nice.” Draco says sleepily.   
Mippy disappears with a crack, and Draco gets up from his bed to do his usual routine. When he finished, he came out shiny, refreshed, and smelling faintly like lavender and sage. When he goes back to his bedroom, his uniform is laid out on his neatly done bed. He walks over to his bed to get changed. The uniform is starched to perfection, and is feeling a million times softer than it was yesterday. As Draco is adjusting his shirt, he notices something in one of his breast pockets. He pulls it out and it’s a small pack of bobby pins, most likely placed there my Mippy. Since Draco’s bangs are long enough to cover his face to some degree, (he really needs it cut… he’s starting to look like his father) he uses the bobby pins in a criss-cross fashion to secure his bangs to the side of his head. Draco then puts his wand in his leg pocket, and puts on the necklace that his mother gave him, the silver shining brightly against his pale neck. Draco gives himself a once-over in the mirror, pleased with how he looks. He then exits his room to go downstairs.  
When he reached the base of the steps, his mother was there waiting patiently with his cloak in her arms. As he walks towards his mother, she reaches out to him, handing him his cloak.  
“Have a good day at work, love.” She says, kissing him on the forehead, a gesture that Draco happily accepts.  
Draco then puts his cloak on and he exits his home, the Holly Maid building forming in his mind as he feels the tug and pull of apparition.  
*  
When Draco gets to the building, he gets the feeling again. The one from yesterday evening, when he saw the figure. He looks around cautiously, un-clasping his leg pocket for quick access to his wand as he crosses the street to his job. He makes it through unscathed, and he then enters, immediately going to the employee area to punch in. This time around, he doesn’t see Helga or Darren. Not seeing Darren isn’t a 100% bad thing, but Helga’s pretty cool. After Draco punches in he then exits the building towards the nearest apparition point, this time his wand is at the   
ready. When he gets there alright, he then imagines Grimmauld Place, and with a quick tug he’s gone.  
*  
When Draco reached the place, he didn’t feel the thickness of the ancient magic, which is a good thing. He walks up the steps and he tries to knock on the door, and is mildly surprised when the door swings open expectantly. Cautious, he enters, and closes and locks the door behind him. There really isn’t anything for him to clean, since Potter had enough sense to look after himself to some degree. Draco walks to the kitchen and checks the fridge… and yup, no food just beer.  
Draco makes a mental note to go grocery shopping at some point during the day. Maybe make something for Potter to reheat at a later time. Draco closes the refrigerator and checks Potter’s pantry; which no surprise to Draco, is ill stocked. When he closes the pantry door, he can hear the soft pitter-patter of feet hitting the wood floor. He turns around and sees Potter, who isn’t clad in Auror robes and is instead in pajama pants. And honestly, it isn’t a bad look. But what is a bad look however, is a wand pointed directly at Draco’s chest.  
“Don’t kill me, I’m the maid.” Draco says with his hands up.   
Potter wipes his eyes, most likely getting the sleep out and lowers his wand. He then sticks a hand in the pocket of his pajama leg and pulls out his glasses, his bright green eyes being magnified by the thickness of the lens. Honestly, he looks just as beautiful as he did yesterday.  
“What are you doing here at the crack of dawn?” He asked groggily.  
“My job?” Draco replies, a little confusion etched in his voice. Potter shrugs in response.  
“Make some coffee on the pot will you? I’ll be back down in a few minutes or so.” Potter says, yawning.  
Potter then turns his back to Draco and stretches as he walks away, his deltoids and latissimus muscles flexing. It made Draco’s mouth a little dry. Draco shakes himself out of his potter-induced trance and he goes back to the pantry, getting the arabica coffee grounds and getting the coffee started  
*  
When Potter comes back down to the kitchen, this time clad in his auror robes and uniform, Draco is already pouring him a cup from a plain cream mug. Draco then slides him his cup as   
Potter sits on the barstool. Potter’s strong, large hands encase the mug, and Draco notices that there is no band. Isn’t he married? What does that mean? Why does he have wedding photos?  
“I want to go grocery shopping,” Draco says, getting himself out of another Potter trance. “Can you please lend me some galleons?”   
Potter stops drinking his coffee mid-sip, and raises his eyebrow. He puts the cup down, and looks at Draco.  
“Since when did you learn how to cook?” He asked.  
Truth be told, he doesn’t know how to cook. But he’s amazing at potions. Cooking and potions are similar to each other, right?  
“Don’t worry about it,” Draco replies. “I was thinking since your fridge is empty, I could get some groceries and make your lunches, assuming that you eat at work?” Draco asks, leaning against the counter.  
Potter doesn’t say anything. Instead he takes another sip of coffee and gives Draco a look, like he’s deciding if he should give him the money or not.  
“I do. If I give you the money, will you also make dinner too?” He replies, raising his mug for another sip, waiting for Draco to answer.  
“Yeah, sure. It’s my job to do that.” He replies. And a brown satchel was placed on the counter, and Harry gets up and leaves, leaving behind his finished coffee mug.  
Draco opens the satchel and lo and behold, it’s grocery money. As Draco is counting out the galleons, he hears the front door open and close. With Harry out to work, he can go shopping, and maybe tidy up around the house.  
*  
When Draco comes back from his shopping excursion, he walks into the house with two large bags, with leafy greens peeking from over one bag and another is just full of cans and tightly wrapped meats and fish. Draco makes his way back to the kitchen, setting the paper bags on the counter and he begins to pull his ingredients out. Since he knows that Potter comes home way past the end of his shift, he’s going to prepare his dinner now and pack them up for later. Draco decided that he was going to make a light shrimp scampi, a recipe that he found and wrote down while he was shopping. He pulls out his 1lb bag of shrimp, a couple of lemons, red pepper flakes,   
garlic, and he walks over to Potter’s pantry for his lone bottle of olive oil, followed by pulling out a box of angel hair pasta.. He puts the shrimp in the sink to thaw, and he sets all the other ingredients aside so he can put the rest of the groceries away.  
When Draco was done putting the groceries away, he got to work on the shrimp, which was fully thawed. He de-veins and cleans them, making an effort to pull the tails off. When he was finished, he began to cut and juice the lemons, adding red pepper flakes, salt, pepper, garlic and of course olive oil, making a lemony salad-dressing like sauce. Draco pulls his wand out and summons a large pan and pot and they come flying from underneath his countertops. He heats up the pan, and begins to cook the shrimp down and put the pot on the boil, which he does speed up a bit with magic.  
As Draco is cooking, the smells of lemon, garlic and shrimp fills the kitchen and it smells godly. The sizzling of the shrimp is oddly music to Draco’s ears. He casually leans against the edge of one of Potter’s counters, watching the juices in the pan sizzle and pop, and from the corner of his eye, he sees some movement.  
Someone is in the house. Wand at the ready, Draco moves himself from the counter and slowly makes his way towards the entrance of the kitchen. As he gets closer and closer to the figure, he notices that it isn’t just one person but two. On edge, Draco braces himself and he jumps out, his wand pointed at the two would-be robbers-  
And it’s just Potter, who has an amused look on his face and… is that Weasley? Of course it is, he knows that mop of red hair and freckles from anywhere.  
“A knock would suffice next time, Potter.” Draco remarks, putting his wand away. “I have to go back in the kitchen-”  
“Wow,” Ron says, his face turning red from holding in his… laughter? “Who knew there’d be a Malfoy in the kitchen!” I guess his own words must’ve tickled him, because at this point, Weasley is cackling at Draco’s expense.  
Draco glances at Potter for a moment, and shakes his head. He turns his back and goes back into the kitchen to finish cooking. Slightly annoyed that Dinner suddenly became lunch  
*  
When Draco finishes cooking, he then begins to plate the pasta and shrimp, adding an extra drizzle of olive oil and chopped cilantro for garnish. He puts the plates on the counter with the barstools and he calls out:  
“Lunch!”  
And like a pair of puppies, Potter and Weasley come running down the stairs and barreling in the kitchen, their bodies a blend of burgundy and red. They take their seats at the barstool and Draco hands them forks.  
“You have to go now,” Potter says. “Ron and I want to discuss our work while we eat, and it’s extremely confidential.” Weasley nods in agreement.  
Without a word of response, Draco leaves the kitchen to check on the rooms, and maybe go outside for some fresh air. He goes upstairs and checks the rooms that he has access to. When he sighs in relief at the clean rooms and an even cleaner bathroom. He goes back downstairs, where he can faintly hear the hushed conversation between Weasley and Potter. He can hear little bits and pieces, like “He could be an asset” and “She’s not even British, but Belgian”. Whatever they’re talking about must be intense. Draco puts on his cloak and announces that he’s going to go outside for some air. He shrugs when he doesn’t get a response back, the hushed conversation is way more important.  
Draco decides to take a walk around the area, curious to see if there’s any nearby shops or cafes or what have you. He walks to the end of the block, and for as far as his eye can see, there’s nothing but houses… maybe this is one of those residential areas, where all the shops are in a neighboring city. As Draco walks down a couple of blocks, he finds a park that has a lot of open space and a shabby child’s playground. The only interesting thing about it is the murky man-made pond. As Draco checks out the park, he sees him again. The man from yesterday evening. How did he follow Draco so far? He didn’t even see him this morning! Draco stares at the man, weary. The man makes no move to confront Draco, but he isn’t going to stand around and wait to find out. Draco turns around and speed walks back towards Grimmauld. The man begins to pick up his pace, all the while keeping his distance from Draco. At this point, Draco pulls out his wand, holding it close to his chest and a curse at the tip of his tongue. When Draco reaches the block that Grimmauld place resides at, all of a sudden the man stops, and turns   
around. Shaken, he runs back to Grimmauld place, his wand hand trembling slightly. Potter and Weasley are at the steps, preparing to apparate away, but they both had facial expressions of concern when they see a pink, slightly disheveled Malfoy with a wild look in his eyes.  
“Someone is following me. I don’t know what they want with me,” Draco says, grabbing onto Potter’s arm, fear etched on his face. “I think I’m in danger and someone wants to hurt me and-”  
“Woah woah,” Potter says, walking down the steps to be level with Draco. “Come inside and tell Ron and I what’s up.”  
“Harry,” Ron says. “It could be them. He needs to know.”  
“I need to know what?” Draco asks, his voice exasperated. “What is going on and am I in danger? Is my mother in danger?” He asks, his bright grey eyes switching back and forth between Potter’s green ones and Weaslely’s blue ones.  
“Yeah… I think we should go inside,” Potter says calmly. “I have some explaining to do.”  
*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 6 pager! And this time it isn't worthless fluff. Things are picking up now... what do you guys think might happen? Let's talk about it! And constructive criticism is always welcome! :) Chapter 8 coming soon ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter. It just wasn't working. I had ya'll wait on such a shitty chapter and I'm sorry. Writer's block really got to me.

Potter, Weasley, and Draco all enter back into the house, with a little bit of a scuffle between Draco and Ron. Instead of going to the kitchen, Draco sat himself down on the immaculate couch and crossed his arms, his fingers tapping against his forearm expectantly.  
“Well you see,” Harry begins, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck as he thinks of the right words to say. “Your employer… well he’s caught up with some really bad people.” Harry says, checking for Draco’s reaction. “And I hired you personally because from Ron and I’s surveillance-“  
“You two were watching me?!” Draco exclaims, his face pink with anger. Ron quickly shakes his head.  
“I wasn’t the one watching you Harry was.” Ron replied.  
Draco tears his eyes away from the green and blue, and he looks at the floor for a moment. Then a memory comes into his head.  
“Were you the one watching Darren and I?” Draco asks, and Harry confirms this by scratching the back of his head.  
“You had me worried! I was scared because of you!” Draco snaps, and Harry’s face becomes clouded by guilt. Ron kisses his teeth.  
“He has a job to do. You work for a bad guy and a bad company.” Ron says.  
“Then arrest me.” Draco says. “I’m conducting illegal activity, yes?”  
“We can’t arrest you. You’re an asset.” Harry says, rolling his eyes.  
“Asset?” Draco asks. “What do you mean?”  
From this question, both Harry and Ron share a look. Then they both sat down at the cozy chairs near the fireplace. Harry rubs his face and Ron sighs.  
“Look, we can’t really go into that, since it’s an active investigation,” Ron says. “We already told you too much.” His eyes narrow, thin slits of blue boring into Draco’s grey irises.  
“We need you to take an Oath.” Ron says. “You’re working for a shady man, Malfoy.”  
Draco gives Ron an incredulous look. Then he shoots a quick glance at Harry, who shrugs his shoulder. Classic.  
“A shady man who sent someone after me!” Draco exclaims. “I’m in danger! Why would I risk my life… my mother’s life to snitch on you two?!” He says, getting up and the pink returning in his face.  
“Look, it’ll benefit you and us if you take the oath,” Harry says, his voice smooth and grounding. “You’ll have full protection by the ministry-”  
“Fuck the Ministry!” Draco yells, feeling his face get hot with tears. “I’ll take your oath,” Draco says, a sigh of relief coming from both Ron and Harry. “But the ministry cannot know.”  
*  
Unbreakable vows were a little bit extreme, but Draco wasn’t mad at Potter and Weasley for playing it safe. But still… Draco couldn’t shake off the feeling of fear and dread. Because at the end of this, Draco is going to have to leave, he’s going to have to punch out. As if Potter could read his thoughts, he walks over to Draco, placing his hand on his shoulder. Draco leans into his touch by a fraction of a fraction of an inch. The electricity that was caused was enough to send a shiver down his spine. Draco looks up, his eyes bore into Potter’s, his eyes asking, ‘what of my mother? Will she be okay?’ Potter gives Draco another squeeze on his shoulder, the touch feeling more affirmative.  
*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking... maybe I should go on a short hiatus? I don't know if I should call it that honestly... I want to write chapters 9-13 and then post them weekly, instead of spending a week or two writing only one chapter. Hopefully writing gets me out of the block, and all 940 of you can have more consistent updates. 
> 
> Here's my socials!  
> discord- 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝕶𝖞#3550


End file.
